


warm earth

by pseudocitrus



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Shironeki | White-haired Kaneki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocitrus/pseuds/pseudocitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kirishima siblings go hunting, and accidentally target the infamous Centipede.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a Kirishima Touka/Kaneki Ken/Kirishima Ayato AU snippet! ///
> 
> i wrote this some time ago, and am posting now due to expressed interest :) this part doesn’t contain much actual “shipping feels.”
> 
> inspired by:
> 
>   * [this beautiful picture](http://lazalantinart.tumblr.com/post/112429514702/when-you-ship-touken-and-ayakane-equally-and-you) by lazalantinart that you should go look at ///
>   * chats/headcanons with [fangirlingforeverz](http://fangirlingforeverz.tumblr.com/) and [tanagers](http://yaboyshinsuke.co.vu/) ❤
> 

> 
> hope you're having a good day; enjoy!

The mistake they make is not reconsidering after realizing that the white-haired person they're tailing isn't some old man at all, but a fairly young one. Early twenties, Touka guesses. Just a couple years older than her.

“We can take him,” Ayato hisses, when Touka hesitates. “He's just one of those fashion idiots from the college.”

He has white hair, black nails, and a messenger bag — filled, Touka hopes, with books. It would be nice to add a textbook to their meager collection. But the way this person moves is fluid, like he's aware of martial arts. Like he has a lot of tough, gamy muscle. He could put up a good fight, and won’t even even taste good. Is it worth it?

Her growling stomach makes the decision for her.

“Okay. Let's go.”

She bites open the skin across the back of her hand, and spreads the blood across her face, and creeps into the next alley that the white-haired man is approaching. As soon as he's close, she makes a sobbing noise, and is rewarded with the sound of the man's steps halting, and then starting again. He's walking...

...in the opposite direction.

 _Asshole,_  Touka thinks.  _He deserves to die._

She runs out of the alley, panting.

“Somebody help me!” she cries. “Someone — please —” She gazes wildly back and forth, and then settles her eyes on the man as if for the first time, and stumbles toward him.

“N-Nii-san — please help me, I'm bleeding —”

She grabs his arm, and yanks, turning him toward her. She looks up at him, and sirens begin to shriek in her head.

He is not at all surprised to see her, a bleeding young woman, clutching his arm. In fact, he looks annoyed.

Touka releases him and leaps back.

“Don’t!” she yells, to Ayato. “ _Don't_  —”

But it's too late. Behind the man, Ayato descends, kagune roaring — and is immediately struck down by a huge, long claw emerging from the man's back. Ayato groans as he skids along the ground, but is quickly back on his feet, with a scowl.

The man glances at Ayato, and then at Touka. In the streetlight, she can see his eyes have shed their human color.

 _No,_  Touka realizes with a stab of horror. Only one eye has shown its kakugan; the other is still human. This isn't an ordinary ghoul.

“Centipede,” Touka gasps. The one-eyed ghoul that has been devouring every opponent in his path.

Centipede gives a tired sigh.

“You must be the Kirishima siblings,” he mutters. “I thought you small fry might try and give me some trouble.”

 _Small fry?_  Despite herself, Touka clenches her fists, and glares. Ayato spits, “Fuck you!” and launches himself again at Centipede — who lashes his kagune and tosses Ayato away again, with hardly a glance. Ayato screams in pain as he collides into a trash bin, and Touka shouts — her kagune flare — she lunges, and is a centimeter away from tearing Centipede's face wide open when suddenly he is just  _gone_. She sails through the void where his body used to be, and careens straight into a fence. The impact rattles her bones, and her kagune sputter.

Then the siblings stand again, huffing, eyes ember-bright. With furious yells, they throw themselves at him again — in fierce coordination — all kicks and punches and shining, arrow-like feathers, kagune a stormy roil. And Centipede just steps and bends and squirms effortlessly out of the way of every attack.

Touka feels it first — a little throb in her shoulder — her ukaku are almost spent, which means Ayato's won't last much longer either. She grits her teeth. She hates giving up, but doesn’t want to get killed — or worse, let Ayato get killed. She stops, panting, and grabs Ayato's arm, pulling him back. She's dragged him almost a meter away before he realizes what she's doing.

“ _I’m not running!_ ” he hisses. “Especially not from some halfling faker!”

Centipede's eyes flicker.

“Then I'll have to end this the hard way,” he mutters. He raises a hand — cracks a knuckle — and without further ado a rinkaku curls around Ayato's midsection and flings his whole body into a building wall. Ayato's cry of agony is overcome by the sound of shattering bricks and falling debris.

Touka’s mouth is dry. Centipede is much stronger than all the rumors had indicated; it’s clear he’s just been toying with them, that he could have ended this the moment they showed themselves to him.

He is advancing toward Ayato, though, and Touka feels a burst of strength when she sees it. She snarls, and barrages Centipede with what's left of her RC cells. This time, every crystal sinks into his flesh — but he doesn't even wince. He levels a gaze at her that, despite the blades embedded in his cheek and throat, lacks any hint that he feels anything at all. He cracks the knuckle of his next finger, and the next thing she knows, she's slammed against the wall, beside Ayato. She’s winded; she tries desperately to recapture her breath, and every inhale lights fires of pain across her body. She blinks away tears.

Centipede plucks her kagune crystals from his skin and slips them into his mouth, one by one. The gaping wounds left behind begin to knit themselves together, seamless, as she watches. He walks toward them, cold, steady. He's not human — he's not even a ghoul — more than either of these, he’s like a machine designed for butchery.

 _Shit_  —

She tries to barrage him again, but her kagune just emit a thin, whining whistle. They're spent. Beside her, Ayato weakly attempts the same, to similar effect.

 _SHIT_  —

Centipede's shoes are tapping closer; his eyes are focused on them.  _This is it,_  Touka realizes, with horror. There are so many things that she would have wanted to accomplish, if she had only known that today was the day she would die — she would have wanted to learn how to read better — she would have wanted to finish a book really feeling like she understood everything that happened in it. As it is, though, she has only one responsibility left. Touka swallows down her fear, and tries to stand, and collapses, and then just shoves Ayato over, trying to get him to his feet.

“Ayato,” she hisses, “run. I’ll fight him off. Hurry, run!”

“Fuck that!” Ayato growls, and shoves her back, before spitting at Centipede. “Hey, you white-haired, one-eyed freak! You'll have to kill me first before you eat my sister!”

 _“Ayato —”_  Touka tries to push Ayato away, but he just pushes her back, and they wrestle with each other furiously, exhaustedly. Their struggles are interrupted by a chuckle, and they both look back up at Centipede, who is now standing over them.

He's smiling.

“Don't worry, Kirishima siblings,” he says. “I think I’ll have you both.”

They look up at him in terror, and wince in unison as he flicks his kagune and makes identical cuts on their cheeks. Before they can react, three more rinkaku emerge from his back, and he pins the two of them by their arms against the wall.

He kneels first in front of Touka, fixing her with his mismatched eyes. She freezes, and pinches her eyes shut, and looks away with clenched teeth as he leans in. She feels his exhale, and cringes as his tongue laves, hot and wet, across the cut he made. He swallows. And pulls away.

_What?_

Touka’s eyes snap open. Centipede is looking toward Ayato now, and she watches as Centipede runs his tongue across the cut on Ayato’s cheek, and suckles out a little more blood.

Then Centipede stands, and withdraws his kagune, releasing them. Touka and Ayato slump to the ground, stricken, trembling. Touka's heart is beating so fast that she's dizzy. She watches Centipede licks his lips, watches him blink and then regard them both with eyes that are now both human.

“Thank you very much for the meal,” he says. He bows his head, and walks away, adjusting the messenger bag to cover the holes in the back of his shirt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaneki is stalked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't prioritized working on this story much lately, but recently got a burst of inspiration ^^
> 
> hope you're having a good day!

He was planning to be out of the ward by the end of the week, but it's clear the Kirishima siblings are trying to run him out even sooner. So, he ends up sticking around for another half a month.

Apparently they’re as poor sports as the CCG. Unlike the CCG, however, they’re fairly good at tracking him, and they tail him, every day, so closely he can’t imagine how they’re finding time to hunt on their own. He visits isolated locations now and then to allow them ambush them, trying to get them to realize that the whole thing is futile; but they either don’t get it, or don’t care.

What is annoying soon becomes pretty amusing. The Kirishima siblings might be intimidating to a human, but against  _him_ , their strategies are ill-advised at best and hilarious at worst. Occasionally he lets them get close enough that he can see the blacks of their eyes when he turns around to face them; at which point they stumble mid-lunge and snort and pretend to mind their own business, like cats caught falling on their faces.

He's walking home now, alone, or so he thinks, until the wind shifts. He doesn't miss a step as he calls, “Good evening, Touka-chan.”

He hears an aggravated huff. She steps out from the next alley ahead.

“Don't use ‘-chan,’” she growls, and he smiles at her.

“Then, good evening, Touka.”

She turns red.

“We can play that that game too,  _Kaneki Ken_ ,” she snaps, and he stops walking, and blinks at her. This is the most unexpected thing that either of the Kirishima siblings have managed throughout their entire harassment campaign. Behind him, Ayato emerges, with a chuckle.

“I told you that'd throw him off, Aneki.”

Kaneki searches his brain for any way that they could have learned this information, short of asking for documents at public offices, which he is sure they can't have done — not in the clothes they're always wearing, which are somewhat mismatched and would receive hard eyes and suspicion in any respectable establishment.

He gets his answer when Ayato throws a ball of paper at him. It falls a little short, and Kaneki bends down to retrieve it.

_MISSING,_  it reads.  _KAMII UNIVERSITY STUDENT. KANEKI KEN._

The person in the photo has dark hair, and a nervous smile.

“Humans might be dumb enough to fall for your gross hair dye,” Ayato scoffs, “but not us.”

Kaneki folds the paper up and opens his bag to put it away. He sees Touka crane a little, as if to see what’s inside, and pauses.

“Is this why you both keep following me? You want my bag? Take it.” He unslings it from his shoulder and holds it out to her. Touka stiffens, and takes a step back. She’ll take it in just a moment, though — or so he thinks, until Ayato snaps, “Get that thing away from her! We don’t need your stupid human trash!”

Touka stuffs her hands in her pockets. Kaneki sighs and puts his bag back on.

“It's getting late, you know. You two have been at it all day. Go home, rest. Try again tomorrow,” he advises. “And try walking on the balls of your feet. You can control your movement better that way, and be quieter.”

“Much better,” he compliments the next day, without turning, and Ayato hisses in frustration and retreats. Kaneki smiles to himself and continues walking home.

The two of them are strange company. But…but he's been alone for…a long time. Teasing them here and there is…kind of fun.

Besides, there are worse things than being stalked by a couple of amateurs.

:::

Like not having them around at all.

Usually they’re around first thing in the morning. He shifts his weight from foot to foot — goes to his usual cafe — scans the eaves, and his watch. He tries going about his daily business, but can’t stop himself from keeping an eye on his surroundings.

It's…possible that their skill has advanced to the point where he can no longer detect them at all. Possible, but unlikely.

It’s past sunset now, and there’s been no sign of them at all.

He rubs the joint of his index finger against his thumb.

_Maybe they’re just busy._

:::

There are all sorts of things they could be doing, really. Having coffee. Hunting, finally.

Playing games.

Reading.

They could even be fleeing for their lives.

They could even already be dead.

:::

Finding their “home” is so easy that the churning in his stomach gets worse. They’ve been taking refuge in what remains of an abandoned cafe with boarded-up windows. Inside, clothes are strung to dry on wires nailed to the walls. Books and empty coffee cans are stacked in columns beneath what tables remain standing. He presses his nose into a hanging shirt, and confirms it has their scent.

He looks around. Where are they? What happened to them?

_The weak are eaten,_  he reminds himself. There's nothing he can do about a simple fact like that.

Absolutely nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touka and Ayato try hunting again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're having a good day!

This city just keeps getting filled with more and more annoying people. Even when Centipede isn’t going out of his way to trespass on their territories, Touka seems to want to follow him around anyway — “Just to make sure he won’t sneak up on us,” she says.

Ayato believes her until the day that they both manage to sneak up onto the roof adjacent to a cafe, so they can look down and survey him as he reads outside. Ayato waits for her to start planning out how best they should attack, but she doesn’t. She just watches.

And watches.

“You’re not worried about him at all,” Ayato realizes, and Touka purses her lips, which means he’s right.

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” Ayato growls. “You really do want those book things he has, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” Touka mutters.

“You do!”

“Ayato,  _quiet_!”

But it’s too late; when they look down next, Centipede is already looking back at them. Despite himself, Ayato feels his face warm, and ducks out of sight. Touka sits up a moment later too, and they exchange grimaces.

The wounds they sustained from their first fight with Centipede have healed now, except, strangely, the cut that he left on their cheeks, which remains vaguely red and matches when they look at each other, as if they were facing a mirror. Touka seems to not care, but it’s the first thing Ayato sees in his own reflection. An ever-present reminder of the feeling of Centipede’s mouth on him, strangely soft and enough to make him feel irritatingly flustered. One day, out of frustration, Ayato steals a couple discs of foundation and attempts smudging the mark away, in vain.

To have that remnant of Centipede on them — like a  _signature_  —

It’s —  _annoying_.

Ayato would like nothing better than to cover Centipede totally in red marks too, or maybe just straight-up holes. But he could settle for getting Centipede out their ward, or at the very least back on Touka’s bad side. Touka could take him out on her own, he’s sure, if only she got back into the right mood for it.

“We can kill him, Aneki!” Ayato tries. “We’ll just wear him down, make it so he doesn’t have time to eat, and then strike. We can do it!”

She snorts. “Chasing after Centipede all the time isn’t causing  _him_  to not have time to eat,” she points out dryly, and, as if on cue, Ayato’s stomach rumbles. He frowns down at it, and Touka stands.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get dinner.”

:::

Fortunately, rustling up food isn’t too hard nowadays, especially now that Ayato has perfected his support. Even with Centipede around, the ward seems crawling with even more dumb humans than usual. They trail a couple, and Ayato waits until Touka’s nod signals that they should target an old-looking man stumbling drunkenly around a good location — a narrow alleyway. The best kind for cornering and disposing of him in secret.

After days of unsuccessfully trying to get the jump on Centipede, it’s satisfying for Ayato to finally feel like he has the upper hand. He creeps forward on the balls of his feet as Touka grabs the man’s sleeve and brandishes her bloody hand. She turns him around, and Ayato tenses, readying to strike on her next signal. Touka continues whining to the human, and her mouth opens, and blood bursts out of it.

_Wh — what?_

“Aneki,” Ayato gasps, and his heart jerks as Touka tries to leap back, and is just stabbed through the belly again, with what Ayato can now see is a dagger-like quinque. This — there was no suitcase, but — this human — is a  _Dove_.

Ayato launches himself forward, kagune ablaze. He can’t stop himself from shouting her name, and that’s why, though he manages to riddle the Dove’s face with crystals, he takes a stab to the side himself as the Dove whirls around. The Dove falls, and Ayato shoves the carcass aside furiously, and shakes Touka’s shoulders.

“ _Aneki,_ ” he cries. The pain in his side gives way to panic as his sister’s eyes roll upward and fix on him for only an instant before looking past him. Through him.

Shit, shit, shit, shit,  _shit_  — he blinks rapidly, and then tries to get her to stand. She stumbles, and her eyes focus briefly as her body shakes with pain. Blood is thick and bright on her hands, flowing freely down her clothes. It’s probably bad to move her in this state, but — but where there’s one Dove there has to be another, somewhere, close.

“Come on, Aneki,” he says, hooking her arm over his shoulder, “hang in there, let’s go, let’s go,” but she can’t manage even a single step before she collapses back onto the ground. At loss, he glances back at the dead Dove, and rips away a hunk of flesh and cloth and crams it against her mouth.

“Eat,” he snarls. “Aneki! Eat it! Hurry!”

She chews, weakly. Her eyes lift up to his again, and then behind him. In the glistening black of them he sees a shaking shadow, and leaps up just in time to avoid the point of another quinque diving toward him.

It buries itself into the ground, but the Dove is prepared; they hook Ayato across the face with a kick, and Ayato wheezes in pain as his body is kicked again, this time in the ribs. There’s a slam — a crash — he lands meters away, but scrambles back to his feet in an instant. He needs — he needs to protect —

His sight is hazy. He curses, and shifts his kagune into a shape better suited for close combat, and is about to turn this fucking Dove into scraps when he realizes they have the blade edge of their quinque sidled right up against Touka’s throat.

“Don’t,” the Dove says. “Or I’ll cut her head off.”

 _Shit._  Ayato freezes. His mind races and fumbles through his options, and can’t find any before the Dove speaks again.

“You’re going to tell me something,” the Dove says.

“Sure I will,” Ayato snarls. “And it’s ‘I’m going to fucking kill you!’”

The Dove is unphased. Touka cringes as the quinque slices a sliver from her collarbone. Ayato swallows down his fury, shakes with it.

“You’ll tell me something,” the Dove says, “and in return, I’ll let you two go.”

 _Lying piece of shit,_  Ayato thinks.

“What?” he makes himself ask.

“Where is the ghoul known as Centipede?”

“Like I fucking know!” Ayato snaps.

Touka spits blood as another cut is made on her.

“Don’t,” she coughs warningly, but all Ayato can hear is the weakness of her voice. His own voice trembles when he speaks next, with barely-contained rage.

“I don’t know where Centipede is. We don’t have anything to do with that disgusting insect.”

“We’ve seen you both with him,” the Dove says. “On multiple occasions.”

“Because he’s an annoying freak! It’s not like we’re friends with him!”

The Dove’s eyes narrow. “That’s unfortunate,” he says, and drives the quinque in between Touka’s ribs.

Ayato’s vision blurs; his throat burns. Dimly, he’s aware that he’s screaming, but mid-lunge feels a strange, jerking pressure; when he looks down, something is sticking out from his abdomen. It twists, and as it yanks back Ayato tips backward as well. Suddenly, he feels the pressure of the cement on his back, and the burning heat of something behind his head, and on his arms. Blood, he realizes. His blood.

 _This is it,_  Ayato realizes, with horror. There are so many things that he would have wanted to accomplish, if he had only known that today was the day he would die — he would have wanted to figure out some better way to make sure Aneki would remain safe — he would have wanted to spend at least a little bit of time living a life where they would be free from worry, like everyone else. As it is, though, he has only one responsibility left.

Ayato chokes down his fear, and rushes, and collapses on his knees, as close to Touka as he can get. Then he fires every single Rc cell left in his body.

The crystals flare and skitter and shriek through the air — some digging into the cement — some into buildings, some into Doves. There are multiple Doves here now, Ayato realizes. Multiple looming shadows, multiple white coats.

The air is thick as sludge; he can’t even inhale enough of it to make one last curse as a quinque levels at his quaking throat.

His senses are fading. The taste and smell of his blood fade to nothing. He sees nothing. He feels nothing. He hears —

A cold voice.

“Excuse me. Those two are  _mine._ ”


End file.
